


The Butterfly Effect

by noodlerdoodler



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Assassins & Hitmen, Ben Hargreeves Lives, Gen, Hargreeves Children (Umbrella Academy) Need a Hug, Luther Hargreeves Deserves Better, Multi, Other, Sober Klaus Hargreeves, Stuttering Diego Hargreeves, The Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy) Need a Hug, Timeline What Timeline, Tutoring, Vanya Hargreeves Deserves Better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodlerdoodler/pseuds/noodlerdoodler
Summary: It was supposed to be simple: infiltrate the Academy disguised as a tutor, kill Number Six, and change the timeline for the better. After all, if Six died earlier, then Five wouldn't run away and everything would unfold differently. Lila's mother would reclaim her position at The Commission in no time.There was only one problem and that was that Lila really didn't expect to start sympathising with the children. Could she really kill an innocent ten year old?
Relationships: Hargreeves Children & Lila Pitts, The Handler & Lila Pitts
Comments: 26
Kudos: 199





	1. Chapter 1

“I don’t understand why I can’t just walk in there and kill him,” Lila threw her hands up in frustration, the seat complaining as she flopped back against it. 

The year was 1999, a few months before the launch of a new millennium, and she was sitting in a discrete blue car with her mother beside her. Since the accident, Lila’s mother had been advised to avoid driving and had taken to filing her nails as she sat in the passenger seat. The noise was grating, as was the fact that her mother was asking her to infiltrate the Umbrella Academy. 

Lila didn't have the best relationship with the Umbrella Academy: in 1963, she'd been tasked with infiltrating them and had been successful in doing so. She'd had Diego literally eating out of the palm of her hand, until smarmy Number Five had worked out exactly what she was up to and had threatened to kill her if he ever saw her again. So, here they were, a handful of decades later and trying again to unravel the timeline. Except this time, Lila was optimistic that her cover wouldn't be blown. 

“Darling, we’ve been over this. We’re trying to jar the timeline here, not shatter it into a million pieces,” The Handler preened, not looking up from her nails, “Just suck it up and play house for a few days. I promise you can kill him soon.”

She answered this with an eye-roll, sliding out of the car and slamming the door behind her. As she approached the door of the looming building, Lila could feel her mother’s eyes following her closely. Her mother didn't completely trust her, which was frustrating. Never before had Lila let her down and yet, she was still being treated like a little girl on her first day at school. It was only when she rang the doorbell, taking a cautionary step back, that she heard the car engine turn over and The Handler wishing her luck. Seconds later, the car pulled away.

An elegant blonde lady, poised with a feather duster in one hand like a classic 50s housewife, opened the front door. She smiled politely at Lila, tilting her head in what seemed to be a calculated move. Immediately, something felt very off about this woman, (maybe it was the robotic way she moved?), and Lila wondered if there was more to her than initially met the eye. 

“You must be the tutor we sent for. It’s so nice to meet you!” The woman stepped aside so that Lila could enter the building, shouldering her backpack of few belongings, “The children are downstairs in the playroom.” 

Curiously, Lila couldn’t help drinking in the sight of the magnificent main hall, framed with grand gothic staircases and stained glass windows. The pictures in the file were a little outdated, failing to capture the scale of it all and the telltale signs that children had recently torn through it. Despite the immaculacy of the hall, the book abandoned on the coffee table and the coat hanging from the end of the stairs were tell-tale signs that messy children lived here. 

The blonde woman glanced over her shoulder at her, "You'll be staying upstairs, in one of the guest bedrooms, while you're with us. I put fresh sheets on today, I hope it will be comfortable enough for you. I'll show you to it after you meet the children."

While the woman had some odd mannerisms and slightly stilted dialogue, there was an obvious warmth in her voice when she talked about her children. Vaguely, Lila remembered how lovingly Diego had spoken about his mother and how close they had been. A respite from his asshole father, if she remembered correctly. It certainly seemed that the woman loved the Umbrella Academy from the way she spoke about them. Privately, Lila had always longed for that sense of closeness with her own mother. 

As she followed the woman, (she introduced herself as ‘Grace but just call me Mom, everybody does’), downstairs, Lila noted that she had to step over broken glass strewn across the floor. Light shone through a broken window, which looked like a fist had been put through it. 

“Oh dear,” Grace had just sighed, as if it was a napkin out of place, “Boys will be boys.” 

Lila herself was aware that she hadn’t had the most conventional upbringing: her mother had insisted on mixing her academic tutoring with dangerous assault courses and sneaky tests of her ability. Sometimes, she had laced Lila’s food with poison to see if she’d noticed the telltale signs from her studies. So, she wasn't in a position to judge how other people brought up their children. But even the young agent could see something was amiss in this house. Who had broken the window? Weren't the children like... ten years old? 

Entering the ‘playroom’, she was immediately confronted with a knife soaring past her head and lodging itself in the doorway. It narrowly clipped her ear- if she had been a few inches to the left, Lila would’ve been pierced right between the eyes.

“Diego, we don’t greet guests like that,” Grace scolded lightly. 

It sounded more like she was telling him off for trekking mud into the kitchen rather than nearly impaling his new tutor. 

Lila’s stomach squeezed violently as a little boy came running over, another knife gripped ready in his hand. He looked so… Small. Innocent and sweet compared to when she’d come across him in the 60s. Instead of an emotionally stunted and traumatised man, Diego was just a scruffy little boy, who threw his arms around his mother’s legs and attached himself to her like a parasite. He hadn't been broken yet. But at the same time, Lila recognised the man that she knew in his furrowed expression and the way he gripped his knife like it was a lifeline. 

There was sticky jam smeared across his small face, from breakfast she guessed, as he burrowed his face in Grace’s skirt. He looked so young for ten, short for his age with his hair sticking out at all angles. 

“He’s a little bit shy,” his mother explained, fondly patting him on the head, “Diego, this nice lady is going to be tutoring you all in Mandarin. Introduce yourself.”

Wordlessly, he peeled himself from his mother and offered her a scowl. Again, something in her twisted as Lila recognised the expression from his thirty year old self; he had given her the exact same annoyed look when she had trailed him out of the asylum. Although, she never would've thought of him as shy. He'd always been bold and blunt with her, never afraid to say what was on his mind. 

She forced herself to smile, “Nice to meet you, Diego.”

The little boy’s scowl deepened, as if the hot-head had already decided to hate her, and then he squirmed away from Grace. He returned to the long table at the centre of the room and plopped himself down in one of the chairs, resuming sharpening his knives. Next to him, a blonde boy looked up from a model of an airplane and shot him an irritated look. Diego kicked him hard under the table.

Lila snorted with laughter before she could stop herself and had to smother it with her hand, playing it off as a cough. 

Un-phased, Grace introduced her to the remaining five children littered around the room. Lila recognised Number Five easily, looking as snide even as a kid, who was flopped on a bean bag with a book held above his face. It seemed to be a college level textbook but he was absorbed in the details of quantum theory like it was the latest Harry Potter. Anger flared in her involuntarily and Lila had to remind herself that he was just a little boy, not a renowned assassin, at this point in time. Next to him, a small girl was quietly rosining a bow.

“Vanya is an aspiring violinist,” Grace explained proudly, “She’s something of a prodigy.”

The little girl’s cheeks flamed and she ducked behind her bangs, “I’m just ordinary.” 

Oh, so this was the so-called ‘ordinary’ one? Diego had mentioned her briefly when he was drugged up at the institution, mumbling about her being locked away in the basement. Dr Moncton had scribbled that down in his notes, eyes wide. Their father really was a bastard if everything Diego had said was true. Looking at the little girl, who couldn’t manage to meet her eyes, an odd feeling that she didn’t recognise shot through Lila’s chest. Had she really been held in isolation underground by her own father? 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Lila told them in mock politeness. 

Number Five didn’t even spare her a look, just nodding vaguely in her direction. It was infuriating, yet reassuring, to see that Five hadn’t changed much since he was a child. She had gotten a good idea of what made him tick in 1963 and could play that to her advantage now. His little sister reached out and gently shook her hand, smiling shyly at her. She seemed very sweet for a future atomic bomb. 

Grace led to where another pair of children were lounging, “Oh, Klaus, dear, do be careful with those. We wouldn’t want another injury, would we?”

“No, mother,” replied the cheery boy, who had high heels strapped to his feet and a feather boa wrapped loosely around his neck. 

The future drug addict, Lila remembered vaguely, who had once ate nothing but speed for three days straight. He was scribbling in a notebook but his writing was too cramped and sprawled for her to make out any of the words from here. It was strange to look at his bright expression and watch him joyfully wiggle his toes in his mother's heels and know that he'd be overdosing on heroin in a few years time. 

The smallest of the boys looked up from his book, “I told him, Mom.”

Unlike Five, he seemed to be reading a real book rather than a textbook. Peering at the title, she realised that it was Russian literature, something she'd studied herself much later in her teen years. He must be really bright to be at such a high reading level. Although Lila hadn't expected the family to be in any way normal, it was surprising to realise they weren't all as obvious and easy to read as Diego. 

“This is Ben. Ben, Lila. She’s going to be tutoring you,” Grace introduced, “And that’s Klaus.” 

Like his sister before him, the little boy stuck his hand out formally, (they were clearly well trained), and Lila shook it politely. 

So, this was the one that she was going to kill- he certainly didn’t look like much of a threat to the timeline, small and pretty feeble. Even his blazer seemed to dwarf him, slightly too big for him, and he was chewing on his lower lip nervously as he looked up at her, looking thoughtful. He didn't seem capable of what The Handler had spoken about- was he really able to summon eldritch horrors from another dimension?- but she had warned Lila that appearances often deceive. 

Ben was sitting so close to Klaus that their sides were pressed together, their arms bumping as Ben relaxed back into his seat. They seemed at ease with each other, as if they were usually this close. It would certainly make it a more interesting challenge if Ben was always so attached to his brother. How was she going to separate Number Six from any potential witnesses if Number Four never left his side? 

“Has anyone seen Allison?” Grace asked, after she’d introduced the little boy building a model airplane as Luther. She put one hand on her hip, looking around as if the little girl would pop up any minute to answer her question. 

Instead, Luther piped up on her behalf: “She asked Pogo to take her shopping.”

“That girl,” Grace shook her head, chuckling, before turning to Lila, “Some of the children have… Extraordinary abilities that might make tutoring an extra challenge. Allison, in particular, has a tendency to get her way.” 

Lila laughed, “Oh, I’m sure I won’t have any problems keeping them on task.”

As if to test that theory, there was a loud thump nearby that caught their attention and Lila spun around to see Klaus was sprawled on the floor. It seemed that the boy had leapt to his feet, lost his balance in heels, and pitched over dramatically. Tangled in his feather boa, the boy made a pathetic noise and made no attempt to get to his feet. Ben, sat nearby, just rolled his eyes as if to say _'I told you so'_. Klaus groaned as Grace peeled him off the floor and brushed him off, quickly inspecting him for injuries. 

Most of his siblings didn’t even look up from what they were doing, obviously accustomed this kind of nonsense on a daily basis. Lila supposed that when you grow up with an eccentric collection of siblings, the extraordinary becomes the ordinary. She wasn't sure. She'd never had siblings herself. However, a lingering presence at Lila’s side notified her that one of the children had managed to sneak up on her without her noticing the movement. Looking down, she wasn’t too surprised to see Five standing beside her, smirking up at her.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” The little devil said, “But we’ve never kept a tutor for more than a few days without driving them away.”

She'd been told as much when Lila had spoken briefly on the phone with Reginald Hargreeves, interviewing for the position. Apparently, a handful of superpowered children didn't exactly make for model pupils- though, if the way that Vanya and Ben had politely shaken her hand were anything to go by, they hardly seemed like children with behavioural issues. It remained to be seen why they had drove so many tutors away. 

She checked that they were out of earshot of Grace. She was still fussing over her son.

“Well, you’re stuck with me for four weeks, smart arse,” Lila hissed at the boy, glowering down at him. 

Five just looked back at her, annoyingly smug look still plastered on his face. She wondered if she could get away with killing him too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I actually decided to break this chapter up bc it was getting too long! Thanks for reading!

Lila was starting to understand why the Hargreeves struggled to hold on to tutors for more than a few days, (or in some cases a matter of hours), and it was because they were infuriating. She wasn't renowned for her patience but god, they pissed her off more than any of her previous marks. It was impossible to teach them anything. For a group of child soldiers, trained to kill on command, they weren’t particularly obedient. Those who did try their best to pay attention in her lessons were vastly overshadowed by the delinquents.

For example, take Luther Hargreeves. The boy wasn’t academically bright but still earnest, always coping down notes before she’d even finished writing them. He tried his best and genuinely wanted to succeed... Which would've been cute if it wasn't irritating. Unfortunately, he also had a habit of asking really stupid questions. It made her want to scream. Again, Lila wasn’t exactly known for her patience. 

But if she was bad, (growing steadily frustrated the more questions he asked), Luther’s siblings were worse. At any sign of weakness, they pounced on the chance to make fun of their brother. Their "leader". It wasn't usually mean-spirited, (the little seánce loved to tease his siblings), but it could be. Especially when it came to Diego, who possibly struggled even more than his brother did, and his damned inferiority complex. Used to being compared unfairly to his brother, he couldn’t resist the chance to one-up Luther in any way he could. 

“M-maybe you sh-should stick to p-pu-punching,” Diego teased one afternoon, “Requires less b-brain p-p-power. Guess it’s lucky you go-got the only ability that d-doesn’t require any real thought, huh, N-Nu-Number One?”

Privately, Lila thought it must be a pretty big blow to the ego to get picked on by the kid with a stutter. For someone who could barely get a sentence out to laugh at you. And it was an _awful_ stutter. Lila had never really seen Diego’s stutter in its full glory back in the 60s, although she’d heard him stammer a word or two when he was nervous. He'd always recovered quickly from it. As a child, Diego barely seemed capable of getting the words out. It was actually surprisingly endearing when the little boy tripped over his words and fumbled his sentences.

She glowered at him, “I take it you’ve finished your exercises then, Diego.”

Looking embarrassed, the boy looked down at the short sentences printed in his book, which he was supposed to be translating. He hadn’t gotten any further than doodling a knife in the margin and shrugged his shoulders, looking at her sulkily. Diego was easy to keep down. Maybe he didn't respond well to authority but he didn't want to be humiliated in front of his siblings either and the threat silenced him. 

On the other hand, Five was proving himself to be a challenge.

“Where exactly are you from?” He asked, his elbows resting on the desk as he leaned forward. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, as if he was playing some elaborate mind game with her, but Lila didn’t pay it much attention. Maybe in 1963, he’d stood a chance against her. But now, she was much older, wiser, and tougher than him and his siblings put together.

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern,” Lila folded her arms across your chest, “I’m here to tutor you in Mandarin, so unless you have questions about the work, you can keep them to yourself.”

She’d learnt pretty quickly that tolerating any kind of off-topic questions would open the floor to all kinds of nonsense. In addition to Five’s interrogations and Luther’s curiosity, there was also the problem of the fourth sibling. When given the chance, Klaus could talk her ear off about completely nonsensical topics that seemed to spawn from nowhere. He had once debated (with himself) for thirty minutes about what vegetables think about. Eventually, Lila had been forced to send him out into the corridor, where he had sulked for the rest of the lesson. 

Not one to be put off easily, Five just smirked at her: “Nǐ shì nǎ guórén?”

He was a stubborn bastard, even at ten.

“Wǒ shì yīngguó rén,” Lila quirked an eyebrow, daring him to continue. 

To say that she was from England wasn’t exactly a lie, since it was where she’d been born. It was where she had learned to speak, crawl, walk, and fall down. Lila even had the accent to prove it. She really was from there- at least, originally. The fact that she’d spent most of her childhood at a time travelling agency, having been picked up by The Handler, was just something to sweep under the rug for now. Was there even a term in Mandarin to describe The Commission? Or where it was for that matter,

Even if she had told him the truth, about all of it, Five probably wouldn’t have believed her anyway. It all sounded crazy if you thought too hard about it. Like the Umbrella Academy, Lila's childhood had consisted of militant training to prepare her for life as an agent of The Commission. She'd grown up in the centre of time, watching everything that had ever happened on TV instead of Saturday morning cartoons. And that she had met the Hargreeves in 1963, when they were older, and had failed to trick them then. This was her second chance. 

Five probably would’ve challenged her further if Luther hadn’t butted in.

“But I don’t understand the six tones,” He complained, exasperated, for the hundredth time, “What do you mean tones? Like accents?”

The way Diego let his head fall with a groan onto the desk wasn’t subtle.

Of course, not all of the children were as frustrating as Five. The little violinist, Vanya, would sit and write neatly in her workbook, pointedly removed from any sibling chatter. In this house, being dubbed "normal" was what made someone an outsider. For all he whined and tried to wriggle out of doing any work, Klaus wasn’t half-bad at languages. More than once, Lila had caught him chattering away to himself in German or Russian, waving his hands around expressively. Mandarin became just one in a long list of languages he’d picked up. And planted between him and that kinder shit, Five, was the whole reason that she was here: Ben Hargreeves. 

Number Six. If Lila hadn’t been focusing on him, it was possible that he would’ve slipped her notice completely. Ben just wasn't the kind of kid that stuck out in a crowd, nothing to really mark him as interesting. He tended to fade into the background, even more than Vanya because at least her shyness was obvious, and the most trouble he’d ever got into was when she’d caught him discretely reading a book under the desk.

Quietly, Ben told her that he’d already finished the work. It was the truth.

“The children can be a lot to handle,” Grace told her kindly as she placed a plate of cookies, still warm and gooey from the oven, in front of her.

At least the robot, (Lila was probably more shocked as she should’ve been to find that tidbit out), mother seemed to like her. She was probably programmed to like everybody. Still, it was nice to have someone to sit with during mealtimes, since “staff” were banished downstairs to eat instead of being invited to the dining table. Apparently, Reginald Hargreeves was concerned that it would interrupt the children’s ‘training’ to have an unfamiliar face at dinner. Whatever that meant. Lila suspected it was just because he was a huge dick.

She'd only half-believed Diego's ludicrous stories about his cruel father back at the asylum. For once, he hadn't been full of shit. 

Downstairs, Grace seemed content to listen to her frustrations about tutoring a bunch of super children and feed her baked goods. She had been with the children since they were four, the last in a succession of nannies, and knew them well. Maybe it was because Grace had been designed to be the perfect caregiver but she offered helpful advice just as often as she offered cookies or pancakes. 

When Klaus wouldn't sit still in his chair, Grace advised she let him work on the floor because he found it more comfortable. When Diego kept arguing with his brother, she suggested swapping the seating arrangement around so they weren't next to each other. And when Lila complained that Five was constantly talking back to her, Grace cut her a slice of apple pie and suggested that she set him extra work to challenge him further. He was intellectual beyond his years, according to her, and misbehaved when he needed to be pushed further.

“Five likes to be occupied with something at all times or he gets grouchy. He’s always been that way. He was the first one to give up naps because it was 'counterproductive',” Grace said, “Why don’t you set him extra homework?”

Lila took her advice. Five seemed thrilled about being handed a heavy textbook and told to work on it after dinner.

Such a freaky little kid.

It was one afternoon, tutoring already finished for the day, when she found the children in chaos upstairs. She’d been nosing around, trying to gather whatever information she could that might make the assassination easier. Sure, she had their schedules and training times but that didn't tell her much about how to get Ben alone. How to kill him without being obvious about it. It wasn’t looking like an easy job. So far, all Lila had worked out was that Six was rarely alone, often plagued by Two or Four. She couldn't risk witnesses. 

Admittedly, she was also a little curious to get a better look at the place. To peer at the literal writing on the walls. To study Reginald Hargreeves' inventions, which had mostly been locked away. And, of course, to look at Diego's (messy, cramped) childhood bedroom. Not only was Lila living in the infamous Umbrella Academy, renowned back at The Commission, but she was also getting a glimpse into her ex-boyfriend’s troubled home.

Who wouldn’t have a poke around? Even if she did feel a little guilty about it. 

Upstairs was chaotic that afternoon. Darting from one bedroom to another, shouting as they did so, the children seemed to be grabbing their coats and wrapping themselves in their scarves. Getting ready to go somewhere, obviously, but where? She knew it wasn't a mission or anything of the sort because the alarm wasn't blaring overhead.

Abruptly, Luther nearly barrelled into her. He was chasing Klaus down the hallway, who was cackling as he held his brother’s shoes out of reach above his head, and complaining loudly. At the end of the corridor, Klaus managed to duck around his brother gleefully and charge back towards her. As the boy darted past her, Lila plucked the shoes from the future junkie and handed them back to their owner.

Luther mumbled a slightly embarrassed, “Thanks.”

“What’s the rush, golden boy?” Lila asked curiously. 

“We’re going out,” Klaus sung gleefully, before his brother could answer, “Allison did her little rumour trick on Daddy dearest and now we’re going into town with Mom.”

This was pretty surprising, since Grace was never usually allowed to leave the house or even stray far from her husband’s observant gaze. She was a robot, Lila knew that, but there always seemed to be something sad about how the woman spent her days cooking and cleaning. Whatever her husband ordered her to do, Grace obeyed immediately. However, Lila had seen Allison's powers at work and wasn’t surprised she had managed to talk her father into this little 'field trip'. Her ability really was impressive. If Allison hadn’t grown up to be so stubborn and moralistic, she probably would’ve made as good an agent as her respective brothers.

“Family outing? Sounds dreadful,” Lila quirked an eyebrow.

The blonde boy didn't respond, too interested in pulling his rescued shoes on. Meanwhile, Klaus only managed a nod as he had tangled himself in his scarf while attempting to wrap it around his neck. Considering their harsh upbringing, Lila was constantly surprised at how the Hargreeves struggled with even simple tasks. Who didn't know how to tie a scarf at the age of ten?

Without thinking much about it, Lila instinctively leaned forward and detangled him from his scarf. She looped and knotted it loosely around his neck, the same way that her father had done for her when she was little.

Nowadays, she could barely remember the sparse few years spent with her biological parents. Lila had been so young when she'd lost them that the memories she did have with them were very hazy, almost dream-like. Thinking about her parents hurt too, nearly bringing her to tears when she'd told 1963 Diego about their deaths, so she often tried to bury any thoughts that did resurface. But now, fondly, Lila remembered how her father had gently strung a scarf around her neck and how his warm fingers had brushed her cheek. A kind, paternal gesture. 

At the other end of the hallway, Allison called, “Guys, come on!”

Her brother sidled after her, seeming unbothered by Lila’s scarf intervention, and there was the clumping sound of footsteps on the worn wooden stairs. For a minute, Luther hung back. Anyone without Lila’s keen eyes might not have picked up on it but she had noticed him untying and retying his shoes as if he was waiting for something. She waited too, her hands on her hips. 

Slowly, Luther straightened up and looked at her, “You could come with us, you know? I think Mom would like it. The others too.”

How typical that at the age of ten, Number One was already thinking of what would benefit the team. He was trying to please his siblings. Actually, Lila had noticed him doing the same thing in lessons and had seen him visibly wince when they all dubbed him 'annoying'. They all seemed oblivious to Luther's attempts to keep them all happy, keep the scale from tipping, but this didn't seem to bother him. Like in his studies, the boy was just so earnest. So eager to please. No doubt, his father would be thrilled.

“I’d rather swallow my own tongue,” Lila said, dryly, “But it would nice to get off my arse for once and actually leave this place. So, why the hell not?”

Slipping into her own speech pattern felt much more natural now. When she'd first moved in, Lila had worked hard to keep her tone formal like she knew adults in professional settings were expected to do. Lila mimicked her mother’s strict teaching mechanics, knowing firsthand how effective they were, and witnessed the slight flicker of fear in the children’s eyes when she threatened to dole out punishments. Maybe that time in the mental institution had actually driven her mental because Lila had softened her tone after that. Over time, she had steadily relaxed more into her own laid-back and brash personality. Nobody seemed to mind too much. 

Luther seemed pleased, if a little confused, with her answer and headed towards the stairs. She reckoned that she could write off an afternoon with the children and Grace as 'research' if her mother decided to ask about it- in truth, Lila just needed a break from the sluggish and dull tutoring. As she followed the boy downstairs, to where the rest of the children were waiting in the hall, the mournful wailing of a violin reached her ears. It was only slightly dampened by the walls of the Academy. 

Vanya was playing in her room.

Either the others had forgotten about her or she deliberately hadn’t been invited.

Which was worse?


	3. Chapter 3

Tiny little Allison was a force of nature when she wanted to be. As soon as they neared the stores, she fell out of line, (the way the children had filed down the sidewalk in a straight line was fucking eerie), and hooked her arm through Lila’s as if they were old friends. It was probably something to do with the fact that Luther and Diego were arguing and pushing each other boyishly at the front of the group. Tailing after the two of them couldn’t have been much fun for the girl. 

Allison rolled her eyes with an air of maturity, “Boys are so stupid sometimes.” 

Now, Five had jumped near the front of the line and was watching his brothers wrestle with amusement, hands stuck in his pockets. Little shit. Their mother seemed completely oblivious to what was going on right behind her, even as Diego knocked Luther onto his arse on the sidewalk. Maybe she couldn’t hear the two of them bickering. Or Five snickering at his brothers’ antics. 

“They are a right pair of twats,” Lila agreed and the young girl laughed. 

"What's a-" She mimicked Lila's accent with ease, "- twat?"

"It's what you Americans call an _asshole_ ," Two could play at the mimicking game, "So, don't say I didn't teach you anything."

For a few minutes more, they treaded the sidewalk together. The little girl skipped along, obviously excited to be out of the house, and her carefully tamed curls bounced with her. It jolted Lila's arm unpleasantly having the young girl attached to it bobbing up and down but she gritted her teeth and dealt. If she was going to succeed in her mission, it was a good idea to get close with the kids. Get them to trust her. And...

Allison did _sort of_ remind her of her younger self. Something about the mischievous glint in her eye. 

“You’re going to help me shop for clothes,” Allison announced, no question in her voice, “Klaus means well but he has the _worst_ taste.”

She nodded to where the sibling in question was drawling in Ben’s- _the target’s_ \- ear about what stores he wanted to visit. His scarf already unknotted and hanging loose around his neck again, Klaus was leaning heavily on his brother’s shoulder as he walked. Obviously, Lila had already clocked the pair’s closeness when they left the house. Any hopes of pushing Number Six in front of a bus and making it look like an accident were futile. She’d kill Klaus too and she couldn’t risk the collateral damage to the timeline. Oh, well. Benny boy would live another day. 

“And Vanya knows nothing about clothes. She’d wear her uniform permanently if she could,” There was a harshness in Allison’s voice that stung. 

Only at the last minute had anybody, (Five), remembered to invite Vanya on the trip. She was now shuffling in front of them, looking smaller than usual in her bulky scarf and coat, and looked back at sister. She'd obviously picked up on her name in the conversation. Looking hurt, Vanya fixed her gaze to the front again. 

Kindness was unfamiliar to Lila, so she said nothing to defend the little girl.

True to Allison’s word, the group divided to head to different stores. Luther needed to pick up some pieces for the latest aircraft model he was working on and Five was going to keep him company or, in his words, “make sure the idiot doesn’t get himself killed”. On the other hand, Number Six had begged to go to a nearby bookstore and Vanya had perked up quickly at the idea. Making his alliance clear, Diego slung an arm around Ben and shot a glare towards Luther. 

Which left Allison and an eager Klaus to trail around the many clothes stores.

“Ooh, Allie! Let’s go to the thrift store again! Please, please, please!” The young boy had an impressive pair of puppy dog eyes.

His sister stood her ground, “Only after we’ve gone to some nice stores. I want something I can actually wear in public.”

“Do you even have any money?” Lila wondered.

Klaus and Allison exchanged a look, giggling. They didn’t answer her question. Though, Lila supposed that living in such an extravagant house and having a billionaire father meant they got rather hefty allowances. Lucky bastards. Being the only daughter of a powerful mother should’ve meant that Lila got spoilt rotten and most of the commission assumed she did. But her mother believed in conditional love: Lila had to earn everything she got and if she ever slipped up, everything would be stripped away from her. 

Her pocket money had been a bribe, not a treat. _Do as I say, darling, not as I do_. 

During a lesson, Ben had once asked curiously, “What are your parents like, Miss Lila? Do you have a mom and dad too?”

“W-why w-wouldn’t she, idiot?” Diego rolled his eyes.

But they’d all perked up their ears, keen to learn more about their new tutor. Even Luther had stopped taking notes, his pen hovering uncertainly above his page, and looked up at her. Lila supposed that was only to be expected- aside from the tutors that traipsed in and out of their houses, the kids barely saw anyone outside of their family. Of course, they'd be interested in her. Lila considered for a moment and decided it was better to give them a half-truth than a lie, picking up chalk to write on the blackboard.

“I have a mother. _Wǒ yǒu yīgè māmā_ ,” Lila scribbled the sentence on the board in pinyin, “My mother works in an office. _Wǒ māmā zài bàngōngshì gōngzuò_. She's a very important woman, as she likes to remind me on a daily basis.” 

This time, Allison piped up, “What about your dad?”

It had become clear over the few days she’d been there that Allison was very much a daddy’s girl. Even if her father didn’t like any of his children much. Whenever he nodded at her in the corridor, about as much affection as Reginald Hargreeves was capable of displaying, little Allison beamed with pride. 

“I don’t have one anymore,” Lila looked down at the chalk in her hands.

Five sniffed dismissively, as if he thought she was lying. 

A quiet voice asked, “Did he give you away?”

Vanya was peeking out from behind her hair, chewing on her lower lip with worry. For a moment, the question puzzled Lila and she couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Then, she remembered that the Umbrella Academy had been bought from their parents. Not rescued like her. Of course, it was normal for them to assume other children were passed around like parcels. 

“He died,” She tried to keep any emotion out of her voice, “Shall we get back to the lesson or do I need to assign you all extra homework?”

Diego and Klaus groaned in unison. Vanya ducked behind her bangs. 

At the end of the session, Lila had taken in their workbooks to look over. They’d had to write a short paragraph about their families in Mandarin, which she had said should be easy enough considering the amount of siblings they had. Plenty of writing material there. Besides, any kind of intel was _good intel_ as far as The Handler was concerned. Flipping through the pile, she almost regretted giving them the task.

Klaus had scrawled: _my father doesn’t like me_. There was a doodle in the corner of the page of an angry stickman with a monocle chastising a smaller stickman. 

Ben’s neat printing read: _I have a mother. She is a robot. I have a father. He is an inventor. I also have real parents. I don’t know them. I have two sisters. I have four brothers. I like my sisters. I like my brothers. I read with my brother. My family makes me happy_. 

Vanya had written in tiny letters, almost indecipherable: _I don’t have a family_. 

As Allison and Klaus dragged Lila towards the nearest store, she tried to put that particular afternoon out of her mind. She was starting to wish that she hadn’t come at all. 

Thank Christ, shopping turned out to be less painful than she thought. The Handler often demanded her opinions on her latest outfits and Lila would oblige in complimenting her handsomely- but this was different. This wasn’t so dreary and repetitive. This was almost fun. 

As soon as they entered a store, Allison would gather up an armful of the most stunning items she could find without even looking at the price tags. Her brother tailed behind her, picking up whatever she abandoned and draping it over his shoulder. Then, they would move to the changing rooms. A fashion show would ensue as Allison swept back and forth in dresses fit for a movie star, flicking her hair over her shoulder confidently. 

"Do you like it?" Allison would ask, suddenly sounding nervous, "Is it too much?"

Lila would assure her, "That dress looks wicked. Really nice." 

"Allie, you look fabulous!" Klaus would crow with delight. 

If possible, her brother enjoyed trying on clothes even more than Allison did. Klaus flaunted the most hideous ensembles he could find, not seeming to care what looks he got. There were no nervous checks for reassurance from him as Klaus staggered around in high heels and natty fur coats, looking throughly pleased with himself. He thrived in thrift stores, muttering to himself as he navigated the clothes racks with ease. He liked picking out horrible clothes to wear. It was a bit of a laugh actually. 

Lila actually found herself laughing with them as Klaus twirled in an ugly green skirt. He insisted on getting it. 

And she got the answer to her question in the end: the kids didn’t pay for anything they got. Whether it was because they didn't have an allowance to spend or simply because they didn't need one, Lila wasn't actually sure. But The Rumour, (she was so stupid for not working this out sooner), could talk her way into being given anything for free.

“I heard a rumour you let us have whatever we want,” Allison would smile prettily at the staff. 

They left the store with an armful of shopping bags weighing them down, hanging onto each other's arms.

Lila had to admit, “That is seriously impressive. How come you’re not in charge around here? I would’ve rumoured my way to the top by now.” 

While the girl gave her a curious look, she didn’t have time to respond. Five, annoying as he was, popped into existence right next to them and fell into step with his siblings. Nobody seemed startled by his sudden appearance. It was unclear, for a moment, what had happened to Luther until the boy came barrelling towards them from a nearby store with a shopping bag dangling from his hand. He looked flustered and irritated, his cheeks pink with annoyance, at being left behind by his teleporting brother. 

“Mom said we had to stick together,” Luther complained, sounding more whiney than he probably intended, “You’re breaking the rules again, Five.”

Five just sneered at him, “She didn’t know that you were going to break half the things in the store, you clumsy oaf. There’s no reason for us both to get arrested.” 

Klaus chimed in, helpfully, "You'd do great in prison, Lu."

"Nobody's getting arrested," Allison rolled her eyes, adjusting her new hairlip pointedly. 

She seemed to be waiting for one of her brothers, (was she trying to make eye contact with _Luther_?), to compliment it. None of them took the hint. 

The golden boy looked embarrassed that he didn’t have complete control over his super strength. By this point, his ears were just as pink as his face and Klaus noticed the expression on his face, fondly patting his brother on the back. Lila had to smother a snicker. Nobody else was paying Luther any attention, already chattering about something else. It was interesting to observe the dynamic of the group and how they repeatedly bumped heads with each other, only to make up a few minutes later. 

It wasn’t long before they bumped into the others, Ben- _Number Six_ \- hugging a shiny new book tightly his chest and Vanya talking to him quietly. She was stroking the spine of her own paperback, as if it was a new pet of hers. Behind them, Diego was flipping his familiar blade in his hand absentmindedly and listening to his siblings. Typical. He chipped into the conversation, bumping shoulders with Ben, and the other two laughed.

Allison tugged on Lila’s arm, “Let’s go find Mom so we can get ice cream.”

"It's bloody freezing," She quirked an eyebrow at the little girl, "Do you want pneumonia?"

Ben grinned, "If it comes in chocolate flavour, yes."


	4. Chapter 4

“What do you mean he’s still alive?” Her mother looked unimpressed.

There was a harshness in The Handler’s tone that didn’t surface very often. Even when she was scolding employees back at the Temps Commission, she usually elected to use a deceptively sticky-sweet voice. If Lila had to think back to a time she’d heard it before, it was when she was little and her mother had caught her rummaging through her desk drawer curiously. She’d been peering at some of the files in there, only for them to be snatched away from her immediately.

Lila’s mother had been furious with her, making her swear that she’d never look through her belongings like that again, and had then stuffed the files into her handbag. Soon after, The Handler returned to her usual sickly drawl and offered her sweets to make up for her losing her temper. She remembered sulking as she sucked on the hard candies. Although Lila hadn’t thought much about that afternoon since, she had never gone through her mother’s desk again- not when she knew The Handler could drop her into a London orphanage at the click of her fingers. She’d threatened it before.

“You’re the one that said I had to infiltrate the academy first,” Lila said defensively, flipping through the channels on the hotel room’s television, “Can I rent a video?”

The Handler tapped her pipe on the ashtray and leaned forward, “Lila, honey, you’re doing a great job so far. But we’re running out of time here and Mommy wants her job back-”

“I thought I had four weeks,” Lila interrupted, propping herself up on her elbow.

She was lazing on the elegant golden bedspread in her mother’s hotel room, an odd sense of de ja vu creeping under her skin. It hadn't been that long since she'd lounged in a similar hotel room in 1963 Dallas, ordering room service and plotting Five's death. How history repeats itself. As soon as the children had gone to bed, Lila had crept out of the guest room window and slipped down the fire escape onto the street. Retrieving a hotel room key from the reception desk, Lila had taken the lift- elevator, _elevator_ , this was America- up to her mother’s hotel room and immediately flopped onto the queen size bed with a sigh.

“Yes,” Her mother took a long drag on her pipe, “But don’t you think it would look suspicious if you were so grief-stricken by Number Six’s death that you left immediately? It’s much better if you kill him, stick around for the funeral and make nice with the family for a week, then disappear. All in the details, darling, you should know this.”

Lila frowned at her, “You were never concerned about that sort of thing before.”

“This isn’t official Commission business.”

As if that was an adequate answer. Lila supposed that she should be grateful that her mother had worked out all the details, making sure that she wouldn’t end up in front of the board for messing with the timeline, so she didn't have to. But part of her felt resentful that she was still being treated like a child: if Lila was the one carrying out the job, you’d think she’d be allowed to know the details. She wasn't a silly teenager anymore. 

However, Lila didn’t bother arguing any further. It was obvious that The Handler was in one of her moods and she didn’t want to irritate her mother any further, knowing better than to do that. Instead, Lila chose to sat patiently on the bed and flip through the cable channels in search of something decent to watch- her mother never got back to her about renting a video. She took a long, hot bath in the adjoining bathroom and stared at the ceiling tiles. 

For the first time, Lila wondered if her mother wasn't all that nice. 

“You’re so good to me, darling,” The Handler told her when it was time to leave, pressing one hand affectionately to Lila’s cheek, “Don’t forget why you’re here.”

Her gentle touch was comforting, suddenly sending a wave of homesickness over Lila. In an instant, she felt guilty for thinking badly of her mother. Everything about The Handler was home to her, more familiar to her than her birth parents at this point, and the sweet scent of her mother’s perfume made her long to return to their luxurious life at the Commission. Away from all of this Hargreeves bullshit. She hadn’t really realised it but Lila had missed her mum a lot while she’d been at the academy.

She wanted to go home. Lila vowed silently to herself that she’d finish her job at the next chance she got so that she could go back to her normal life. Whatever it took. She was keen to make her mother proud too, pay her back for everything The Handler had done for her- rescuing her from a life as an orphan, in the care system, and raising her like Lila was her own child.

“See you soon, Mum,” Lila smiled fondly at her.

Then, she’d let herself out of the hotel room and slunk back into the night like a cat. It was cold out, even for the States, and Lila was grateful to be wrapped in her coat for the walk home. Just like in Dallas, The Handler had assured her that it would be easier if Lila stayed close to her mark as often as possible, which meant her mother got a lovely hotel room and she got to slum it with a bunch of spoilt children. Well, Lila supposed it would be a little harsh to call them spoilt.

Sure, the Hargreeves had heaps of money but their father certainly wasn’t wasting it on them. Plus, she was pretty sure that spoilt kids were doted on obsessively by their parents- whereas Reginald Hargreeves didn’t even know his children’s names. Or if he did know them, he didn't bother using them. He would address them by striding into the room and announcing their number, waiting for them to snap to attention.

Honestly, it kind of creeped Lila out. Speaking of which…

“Are you following me?” She asked without even glancing back at the figure in the shadows.

Thankfully, whoever it was hadn’t trailed her from the hotel so would have no idea that was where she’d come from. Only when she’d passed by Griddy’s Doughnuts, the street lit by the glow of the diner, did Lila realise that somebody was on her heels. And she had her suspicions about who it might be. She stopped in the parking lot, her hands still tucked casually in the pockets of her coat to show that she wasn’t easily threatened. Even if it came down to a fight, Lila liked her chances. 

When she heard the shuffling of footsteps, Lila turned around slowly to face her stalker and was unsurprised to see Five was standing there. Despite the late hour, he was still dressed in his uniform, although had neglected to bring a jacket with him. As if he'd made a last minute decision to bolt out of the house. It was incredibly chilly and if he had the slightest chance of intimidating her, (he didn't), it was ruined by how he kept shivering.

“Evening, Lila,” He said coolly, “Where are you going?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Lila replied, “Isn’t it past your bedtime, little boy?”

A look of irritation crossed his face. Good.

While the boy still seemed suspicious of her on occasion, Five seemed to be coming to terms with the fact that she really was just a tutor. Nothing more nefarious than that. Lila had danced well enough around his questions and given up enough half-truths that he was starting to trust her. It was something that she hadn't really expected, seeming out of character for him. Maybe he was a little softer than the Five she had known previously… He was still only a child. He hadn’t yet been hardened by his years in the apocalypse and was a little more open to trusting people. Unfortunately for him.

She shook off the feeling of guilt creeping over her like a mist. Everything that she was here to do was strictly business. What did it matter that she broke Five’s trust? Diego’s? Life would fuck them over repeatedly and the quicker they accepted that the better.

_Right?_

“You didn’t answer my q-question,” Five’s teeth were chattering. 

Lila retorted on instinct, “You didn’t answer mine either. Though, I’m sure your father would be thrilled to hear you were wandering the streets after curfew.”

The threat hung in the air for a moment. She could practically see the cogs turning in Five’s mind as he weighed up his options here, all the time getting colder and colder. Jeez, it was practically winter and the kid was just wearing a thin blazer to protect him from the elements. At this rate, she was going to end up killing Five inadvertently of frostbite before she even got to Ben. _He'll get sick dressed like that_ , Lila thought, and was surprised at herself for thinking it. 

“Look,” Lila gestured to the donut shop, “Let’s get a drink, yeah? You can make up some excuse and then we’ll catch a taxi back to the academy.”

Reluctantly, Five agreed. He wasn’t really in any position to argue with her, since she was holding the threat of his father over his head and he was half-frozen with cold. His fingers and nose had already started turning blue. He probably would’ve turned into a Fivesicle if they’d stood around any longer, trying to outsmart each other with witty remarks. Lila tried not to think about what her mother would say as she ushered the future assassin into the donut shop and out of the cold.

She watched as Five rubbed his hands together to ward off the cold, turning his back to her as if he didn’t want her to see his moment of weakness. There weren’t many other patrons in the shop at this hour, just a trucker nursing a coffee and some night shift workers snacking on donuts. A waitress was sweeping the floor and humming sweetly to herself as she did so. People that existed in the in-between hours of the day, just like her. 

Without another word, Five crossed the room and slid onto one of the vinyl seats at the counter. Lila took the one beside him, electing to keep her coat on even in the warmth of the shop, and scanned the selection of donuts. She wasn’t sure she’d eaten a donut before.

Resting his hands on the counter, the boy spoke without looking at her, “Were you leaving?”

“Nah, haven’t gotten anywhere else to go,” Lila fibbed effortlessly, “You?”

Five shrugged, “Not permanently. Just taking a break from it all.”

Intrigued, Lila opened her mouth to ask what he meant but was interrupted by the waitress coming to take their orders. Five ordered a hot chocolate, which surprised her even though it made sense that he didn’t drink coffee yet, and a Boston Cream donut. He'd obviously been here hundreds of times. Less certain, Lila didn’t want to risk asking an American to make tea, (they always made it wrong), so asked for a hot chocolate as well and a Pink Sprinkle donut. It seemed like a fairly safe bet.

Besides, she was fairly sure she remembered Diego mentioning that he liked doughnuts with sprinkles. It had been an off-hand comment, when they were complaining about the asylum’s food like they usually did, but it had stuck in her mind. Not just because it was cute but because the idea of someone as tough as Diego liking sprinkles was endearing. Lila had teased him about it. 

“That’s my brother’s favourite,” Five commented, as if he’d read her mind, ( _wait could he do that?_ ), “Sometimes, we come here for our birthday. He usually gets the same.”

Lila spared him a glance, “You sneak out a lot then? I would if I was stuck with your parents.”

He tilted his head to one side, considering, “We- me and Vanya- used to try to run away. We’d pack a bag each and go to the nearest bus stop," He paused for a moment, remembering, "Sometimes, we’d even manage to make it halfway across the town. But Vanya always got homesick before we got too far.”

It was too easy to picture. An even smaller Vanya tucking her Mr Snuggles teddybear, (the others often teased her about it), into her backpack while Five counted up enough coins for the bus fare. Maybe they’d plan ahead and save up their allowances or maybe they’d just decide to go on a whim because they were angry with their father. The two of them would hands as they got onto the bus, excited or nervous. Vanya would suddenly start to cry when she realised how scary the big wide world was for someone as small as her. Lila wondered what their dad had said when they returned home from their adventures, their heads hung in shame.

Five seemed to warm up a bit after his hot chocolate arrived, cupping the mug in his hands until they stopped shaking and some colour returned to his face. It seemed odd for somebody as smart as Five to leave the house without his coat, though she supposed he might not have been able to risk creeping downstairs to get it.

He’d probably snuck down the fire escape too. It was a miracle they hadn’t ran into each other.

“Why don’t you just leave on your own?” Lila wondered, “Then, Vanya wouldn’t hold you back.”

Though, as soon as the words left her mouth, she realised it was an idiotic thing to say. The whole reason that she was here, that she was killing Ben, ( _Six, Six, Number Six, not Ben!_ ), was to stop Five from running away. And now, she was basically encouraging him to do it? The sugar must’ve gotten to her head.

It didn’t matter; the boy looked at her like she was an idiot, “Vanya isn’t _holding me back_. She’s my sister, I care about her. And she needs to get away from that place even more than I do,” Five scowled at his donut like it had insulted him, “She’s just way too scared to do it.”

The sense of comradeship between them had dispersed quickly and Lila wished she’d just bitten her tongue. He'd been warming up to her for a second there, letting her in on some of the family secrets. Was it a good thing that she’d reminded Five of his loyalties? So, he wouldn’t run away like he had in the last timeline? Maybe, now, he’d stick around for Vanya’s sake. But she couldn't know for sure. In fact, Lila had no idea. She wished she could take a quick look at the infinite switchboard. She knew that even the smallest decisions mattered when it came to the timeline. Could this night be one of them?

There again, if it was that easy to talk Five out of jumping to the future, Ben wouldn’t have to die. She was pretty sure her mother wouldn’t have a child killed unless it was absolutely necessary. After all, The Handler was a badass and a strict mother but she wasn't cruel. 

“Do you ever think about how small decisions can change everything?” Lila found herself saying, without really expecting an answer, “Like a butterfly flapping its wings causing a tornado or whatever that piss-poor metaphor is?”

Five thought about this for a moment. He took a long slurp of his hot chocolate.

“You know, if you don’t like the sprinkles, you can always get another one. It’s not really a big deal,” He nodded at her scarcely touched doughnut, clearly missing the point, and offered her a rare half-smile, “I knew Diego was full of shit when he said they were the best kind.”

For someone so smart, Five sure wasn't that observant. 

Or maybe he just trusted her. 


	5. Chapter 5

She was running out of time and the thought made her twist the bracelet around her wrist nervously. It was the same brown beaded bracelet that Lila had snatched from the arts and crafts table in the asylum, the one that Diego had made. For half an hour, she had watched with amusement as he tried to wrestle the beads onto the thin wire with his clumsy fingers. It had been sweet. Lila found herself missing him tonight, which was crazy when she considered that he was only down the hall. But that wasn’t the Diego she knew- it was the little boy he used to be.

He’d talked about his childhood a few times in therapy but watching it play out in real time was something altogether. When Lila had snuck back into the academy last night, waving Five off to bed, she’d been surprised to see that there was still a light on downstairs. Stealthily, she’d crept towards it to investigate and found the door to the laundry room ajar. Somebody else was awake. 

Diego had been stuffing his bedsheets into the washing machine, while his brother leaned against the dryer and rubbed at his eyes blearily. It was obvious that they had recently woken up from Ben’s rumpled pyjamas and messy bedhead. He was practically falling asleep on his feet. Both of them jumped awake when the creak of the door announced her arrival.

“Weird time to do laundry,” Lila said, as way of greeting them, and quirked an eyebrow.

Still holding his bedsheets, the taller boy froze and looked frantically to his brother for an excuse. He was obviously embarrassed to be exposed as a bedwetter, no doubt worried about the rest of his siblings finding out. Although Lila had never had siblings of her own, she had been with the Hargreeves long enough to imagine the relentless teasing that would follow. They always seemed to be picking on each other. 

“I had a nightmare. Diego’s helping me clean up,” Ben lied, casual as ever, and he was a strangely good liar, “Please don’t tell Dad about this?”

Now, _this_ was interesting. She’d picked up on Ben’s empathy soon after arriving at the house: it was obvious in the way he coaxed Klaus down to breakfast in the mornings, the way he tried to draw Vanya into conversations when he could, and the way he tried to mediate between his squabbling siblings. But taking the fall for his brother? Lila was surprised at how kind he was for a ten year old boy. At his age, she wouldn’t have lied for anyone’s benefit but her own.

“Hey, hey, I was never here,” Lila raised her hands up in surrender and backed out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.

When she had met Diego, he hadn’t been like the boy in the laundry room. Not only were any remnants of shyness gone but he was more than capable of fighting his own battles, arguing valiantly with anyone who questioned his logic. More than enough times, his defensive nature and hot temper had ended up with him being sedated. Otherwise, punches ended up getting thrown. 

Now, Lila let out a loud sigh and stopped fiddling with the bracelet. She couldn’t let herself get caught up in semantics like this, contemplating this and that, when she only had a week to complete her mission. Only had a week left to kill Ben. If only the boy wasn’t making it so hard by being incredibly sweet and caring whenever she saw him. _Prick_. She couldn't even get him away from witnesses, since him and Klaus seemed to be joined at the hip. 

A gentle knock on her bedroom door and Vanya poked her head in, “Miss Lila?”

“What?” Lila said bluntly. Immediately, she felt bad.

“Oh, um, well, the others are training downstairs,” She knew this, “And sometimes, I like to go and, uh, watch? Dad doesn’t mind as long as I’m quiet,” She knew this as well, “And I wondered… You’ve never really seen the others use their powers. Except Five, I mean.”

Lila frowned, “What, you want me to come and ogle them like they’re in a zoo?”

“No! Not… Nevermind...” The girl shook her hair out, allowing it to fall in front of her face, and began to withdraw from the room.

Her shyness was equal parts endearing and irritating. While Lila felt sorry for the traumatised little girl, (not that she would ever tell her mother), she also wished that Vanya would stand up for herself. Tell the others to quit it when they teased her and left her out of their games; watching her just shrink into herself and accept her outcast status, just because she wasn’t like her siblings, was unbearable. Especially since Lila knew the truth about her powers.

Maybe this was what prompted her to get to her feet and ram her foot in the door before Vanya could close it. The speed at which Lila moved startled the little girl and Vanya jerked her head up to look at her, fear shining in her eyes. Then, Lila smiled at her and she relaxed.

“Alright,” Lila said, “Let’s go watch this superpower shit-show.”

Training took place in a different wing of the house to the bedrooms, as well as the main family rooms. This made sense, in that it removed any risk of the other rooms potentially being damaged, but also served the secondary purpose of isolating Vanya from the rest of her siblings. The little girl didn’t say much as they headed downstairs and through the twisting corridors of the house, content to keep quiet. But she did shyly slip her hand into Lila’s.

Her small hand was warm and her grip was loose, as if she was ready to pull away any second. Lila half-expected for Vanya to leap away from her as soon as they entered the training room- but she didn’t let go. It was an odd sensation for Lila, who never really spent any time with kids prior to this mission, but reminded her of when she used to hold her dad’s hand on the way to school. The memory took her by surprise. Lila hadn’t thought about London in a long time.

“Vanya, dear, you know you’re not meant to interrupt the others when they’re training,” Grace was walking the other way, smiling as she passed them in the corridor, “Do remember to be quiet.”

“I know, Mom,” Vanya said, squeezing Lila’s hand.

The slightly cheeky grin looked out of place on the girl’s face as they darted into the training room, letting the heavy door fall shut behind them. There was a flurry of activity inside.

Luther was bench-pressing an absurd amount of weight, probably 500 pounds or more. Way more than the average man could possibly lift and the boy was only just ten. Although he seemed to be exerting some effort, his nose scrunched up in concentration, Luther didn’t seem to be in any kind of pain. He didn’t so much as glance at them passing by.

“I wish I was super strong,” Vanya mumbled, a little in awe.

Next, Lila’s eye was drawn to a large water tank pressed up against the wall, reminding her of the kind that they used to shoot movie scenes. Inside, one of the boys was floating in the water, completely submerged: on closer inspection, it was Diego with his usual annoyed expression and his arms folded across his chest. It seemed that somebody- likely their father- had sealed him in the tank and left him there to see what happened. The boy looked bored out of his mind.

Thinking of how Diego had talked of his father’s “experiments” in group therapy turned Lila’s blood to ice. This was obviously the kind of thing he’d been referring to and she’d laughed it off like it was as crazy as the rest of his ideas. He wasn’t even attempting to escape the tank.

“Shouldn’t somebody check on him?” Lila asked.

Vanya shook her head, “He can hold his breath forever.”

Nearby, sitting cross-legged on a training mat, Klaus had his eyes shut so tightly that it looked painful. His forehead was creased as if he had a migraine and the concentration was clear on his face. Where his hands rested on his knees, they were visibly trembling. Reginald Hargreeves was leering over him, hissing instructions in his ear, and Vanya was quick to walk past. At the sight of her father, the young girl shuddered in fear.

They left the main room and headed down the connecting corridor, past a series of observation rooms. Peering through the glass, it seemed that most of them were empty or still messy from previous use. There was a disturbing amount of blood pooled on some of the rubber floors.

In the corridor, Allison was lying on the observation bench with a paperback book. Being able to get whatever you wanted clearly didn't involve much training. She seemed uninterested in the noisy massacre occurring in the nearby training room, flipping a page and tucking a loose curl back behind her ear. Even as, on the other side of the glass, real-life soldiers were being torn apart by love-craftian horrors. Lila stared at the bloodshed.

Feeling a bit sick, she asked, “What’s the bloody hell is that?”

Without looking up from her book, Allison replied, “Ben’s training.”

Indeed, when Lila turned back to the observation window, it was the little boy standing surrounded by corpses. Blood, flesh, and bone covered his training uniform from head to toe and he had turned an odd shade of green. He was obviously exhausted from summoning, what the family referred to as, The Horrors and sunk onto his knees to take a break. He attempted to wipe the blood from his face on his sleeve but only succeeded in smearing it in his eyes.

While Lila had been briefed about the family’s special abilities, seeing them in action was something different altogether. Maybe it had been a good idea of Vanya's to bring her down here. Seeing their abilities dug up conflicting feelings inside her: part of her was secretly pleased that the kids seemed capable of defending themselves, while another part of her knew it would make completing her mission so much harder. And she was _running out of time_.

She tilted her head to one side and said, “He must be hard to beat in a fight.”

The Handler had spoken last night about nudging her in the right direction. Making the job a little easier for her- since she _obviously_ wasn’t capable of doing it herself. And Lila didn’t want to think what brutal scheme her mother might cook up if she didn’t manage to kill Ben first. At least she could try and make it as painless as possible.

“Ben doesn’t like fighting,” Vanya piped up, “He says he’s a pacifist.”

“Some people say pacifists have a death wish,” Lila replied.

Allison finally looked up from her book to frown at her, “Don’t be weird, Miss Lila.”

What if her mother sent agents from The Commission after Ben? The Swedes or someone else just as deadly? Lila had no idea if the little boy would be able to take them in a fight, especially if it was a surprise attack. Or what if The Commission refused and her mother hired some freelance assassins that did a sloppy and brutal job? As powerful as the kids seemed, Lila wondered if they’d even be able to handle a situation like that. They hadn’t even started going on missions yet…

As if to answer her question, their conversation was interrupted by a loud crash and accompanying terrified shriek in the main training room. Almost instantly, Lila’s heart jumped into her throat and she raced to see what was going on, listening intently for gunshots. Could The Handler have struck preemptively, sensing her newfound doubts? She reached the door at the same time as Vanya did, the little girl’s face plastered with fear.

Klaus was lying flat on his back, obviously the source of the scream. His arm was splayed an unnatural angle. He must’ve tried to break his fall instinctively and landed badly on it.

“Number Five! How many times have I told you not to interrupt your siblings’ training?” Reginald Hargreeves snapped at the boy, who was standing over Klaus.

Quickly, Lila put the pieces together: Klaus had obviously been in the middle of his training, practicing his telekinesis, when his brother had snuck on him as a joke. This was the kind of thing that happened every day in the Academy. Five had startled him and it had broken his concentration, causing him to land on the training mat with a thump. He must've cried out in pain when his arm broke. Now, Klaus was pale as a sheet and whimpering as he cradled his poor arm.

“Go to the infirmary, Number Four,” Reginald instructed, “Quickly, now. Off you go.”

The little boy swayed unsteadily on his feet as he stumbled in the direction of the door, tears rolling down his face. Abandoning her book, Allison had joined them in the main room and now rushed to wrap an arm around her brother, guiding him to the infirmary. Letting out a sob of pain, Klaus leaned heavily against her and rested his head on her shoulder. The remainder of his siblings only spared him half-hearted sympathetic glances before returning to their individual training. Reginald Hargreeves just looked vaguely disappointed, turning his attention to scolding Five loudly. 

Vanya still had her hands pressed over her mouth, eyes wide in shock.

“What’s going on?” squeaked Ben.

He must’ve crept up behind them while they were watching everything unfold. Blood was already beginning to pool around his feet, dripping off his uniform and hair like water. For the first time, Lila realised, the boy was on his own. Klaus wasn’t there to hold his hand anymore.

Gulping, Lila realised her main obstacle was gone.


End file.
